Page 27 of Protecting What's Mine

“Do it,” I tell him, and his eyes meet mine as he rams into me harder and harder. I just hold on as tight as I can as he loses control on top of me.

It’s a turn on that I’ve brought this man to losing control. Seriously, everything about this moment is something I’ll never forget.

Another minute, and he’s slamming into me, cursing out my name as he tells me he’s coming. At the last second, he pulls out, shooting his ribbons of white cum all over my torso. It’s hot, and completely him, and I love every second of it.

After he’s done, he gazes down at me. “You look good with my seed all over you.”

I swipe my finger through it, and bring the finger to my mouth. I suck, and Ranger’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his dick throbs in his hand.

“You keep doing shit like that and I’m going to have to fuck you all over again.”

I smile, sucking my finger deeper into my mouth. “Promise?”

The smell of something sweet and buttery pulls me out of sleep, lingering in the air like an invitation. I blink my eyes open slowly, the morning light filtering through the sheer curtains in soft, golden beams. For a moment, I don’t know where I am, the sheets warm and unfamiliar around me, but then it all comes rushing back.

Ranger.

Last night.

A blush rises to my cheeks as I stretch lazily, muscles I didn’t know existed reminding me of the way he held me, the way he kissed me. I feel warm just thinking about it, a giddy flutter swirling in my chest. I shift onto my side, a sleepy smile pullingat my lips as I listen to the faint clinking of pans and the soft hum of the ocean outside.

He’s in the kitchen. Making breakfast.

The man who held me like I was something precious last night is now flipping pancakes. I can’t help but smile at the thought as I slip out of bed, pulling on a pair of sleep shorts and an old oversized T-shirt before padding barefoot across the cool hardwood floor.

When I reach the kitchen, I pause in the doorway, leaning against the frame as I take in the scene before me. Ranger stands at the stove, his back to me, spatula in hand as he flips a perfect pancake onto a growing stack on a plate. He’s wearing a plain black T-shirt that hugs his broad shoulders and sweats that hang low on his hips. He looks relaxed—more relaxed than I think I’ve ever seen him.

“Pancakes?” I ask softly, announcing myself.

He glances over his shoulder, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, warm and teasing. “Good morning to you too, Einstein. Sleep well?”

I bite back a grin as I step further into the kitchen. “Very well, thanks to you.”

He arches a brow, his smile turning wicked, and I immediately feel heat creep up my neck.Why did I say that?

“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice low and smug.

I roll my eyes and slide onto one of the stools at the counter, pretending my face isn’t currently the color of a tomato. “So, pancakes, huh? I thought you were strictly a burger guy.”

“I’m a lot of things,” he replies cryptically, flipping another pancake with ease before setting the pan aside and moving to stand in front of me. He grabs the syrup bottle, setting it next to the plate of golden, fluffy pancakes. “I figured I’d make you something you like.”

My heart does that little flutter again, and I look up at him, surprised by how much that simple gesture means. “Thank you.”

His eyes soften as he looks at me, his expression so unguarded it makes me want to hold onto the moment forever. “You’re welcome.”

He slides the plate toward me, along with a fork, and I don’t hesitate to dig in. The pancakes are perfect—light, buttery, and dripping with syrup. I let out an involuntary hum of appreciation, and I swear I see Ranger’s lips twitch like he’s holding back a laugh.

“Good?” he asks.

I nod, my mouth full. “Better than the diner’s,” I manage, pointing my fork at him.

“High praise,” he says, smirking.

We lapse into a comfortable silence as I eat, but the quiet doesn’t feel heavy. It’s just… easy, like being with him always seems to be. When I’m halfway through my pancakes, I glance up at him. He’s leaning against the counter across from me, arms crossed, watching me with that quiet intensity that makes my pulse flutter.

“So, what are we doing today?” I ask, trying to sound casual even though my nerves seem to fire up under his gaze.

Ranger tilts his head slightly, as if considering. “I’ve got a little bit of work to do this morning,” he says, his voice low and even. “But after that?” He leans closer, placing his hands on the counter and locking his dark eyes with mine. “I’d like to stay in bed with you all day.”